


Just Like Your Mother

by Amsare



Category: BioShock
Genre: Come Swallowing, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Would You Kindly (Bioshock)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You know kid,” he speaks, lining back against the seatback, “I was thinking 'bout if you look more like your mother or Ryan,” he spits saying that name as if the mere thought of it was poisonous, “'cause your mother, let me tell ya, she was a real beauty.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Your Mother

**Author's Note:**

> Another _Bioshock_ smut. I'm very sorry Jack, I promise I'll make you feel better sooner or later. As always, English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

“Would you kindly come here, kid?”  
  
That question is a mock of a real one; Jack thinks _no, no, I don't wanna_ but it's useless.  
  
His legs move as if they had their own mind, taking him toward the man sitting on the black armchair.  
  
Jack wishes he could spit on that face, he wishes he could beat him to death just like he did to many splicers out there but he can't.  
  
“What's that face? Come on make me a smile,” the man talks to him in a smooth tone, _so wrong, so wrong_.  
  
“Smile at me, kid, would you kindly?” Jack obeys but deep inside he knows he wouldn't do it because it's not his fault, it's the mental conditioning with those fucking W-Y-K key words.  
  
“See, it ain't difficult,” Frank Fontaine looks at him mischievously as if he was looking at a new toy to play with, “on your knees now and keep your eyes on me, would you kindly?”  
  
Jack accomplishes as he hits the cold floor, gritting his teeth; Fontaine lights on a cigarette taking his time and then he blows some smokes on Jack’s face just for fun.  
  
He laughs.  
  
_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._  
  
“You know kid,” he speaks, lining back against the seatback, “I was thinking 'bout if you look more like your mother or Ryan,” he spits saying that name as if the mere thought of it was poisonous, “'cause your mother, let me tell ya, she was a real beauty.”  
  
Jack's heart is beating hard and fast - it's going to explode - and he swears Fontaine can hear it.  
  
He wonders if he will ever be able to escape from down there.  
  
“You found her body in the EVE’s Garden club, yeah? Such a shame you saw her like that, you should have seen her on the stage, where she belonged,” Fontaine sighs at the memory, keeping on talking, “I was lucky enough to spend a night or two with her, if you know what I mean, kid.”  
  
The thought makes Jack wants to throw up.  
  
“Anyway, she's gone now, as that asshole of your father,” behind his back there's a huge whale passing, throwing a shadow in the office, “we're all alone among some ADAM junkies.”  
  
Jack should have been more careful, he should have been smarter; the only good thing he had done down there was helping the Little Sisters to escape along with the Tenenbaum woman.  
  
Then Fontaine got him, making him his prisoner: he wonders if Sander Cohen would have treated him better.  
  
The things Jack had to do, the things Fontaine had made him say.  
  
As if this wasn't enough, confronting him was really difficult for Jack as he still looked like the Atlas he used to picture in his head when he spoke through the short wave radio: but that man wasn't Jack's friend.  
  
Atlas had been just a mask.  
  
_There ain't no 'Atlas', kid, never was._  
  
Fontaine himself had actually told him the truth - if only he could force himself to believe it once for all! He cannot help it because there's a part deep inside Jack which still believes that Atlas will come and save him just like he did back in Neptune's Bounty.  
  
“Let's get down to work!” Fontaine exclaims, throwing away the cigarette butt and standing up on his feet, “we could put in use that mouth you got, don't you think? It's been a while.”  
  
_No, it's not,_ Jack thinks grimly, _you use me like this every fucking day, you fucker._  
  
It seems today he's lucky enough to still have lucid thoughts: sometimes Fontaine enjoys to take them away from him, making him a mindless puppet to fuck.  
  
If Jack has to be honest, at that point he's not so sure what it would be better.  
  
Fontaine is looking at him while he's undoing his belt, lowering down his pants just enough to spring his erection free; he pumps it roughly a couple of time, a smirk on his face.  
  
“Open your mouth, would you kindly?”  
  
_Fuck you,_ Jack thinks as he obeys, opening his mouth wide; Fontaine doesn't waste any time as he approaches him, putting his cock in that hot mouth.  
  
“Yeah kid, you totally took this from your mother,” he grunts as he snaps his hips forward, taking a strong rhythm, “mmm, you're a natural!”  
  
It doesn't take too much time for Jack's eyes to start watering, spit pooling down his chin, coating his filthy jumper collar.  
  
He has to breathe but Fontaine doesn't care, keeping on pushing instead and Jack's jaw is hurting so much, muscles tense, throat harsh when -“Touch yourself, would you kindly?”  
  
_No, no, no, I don't wanna, you bastard!_  
  
Jack's hand go straight down his pants to unzip them and he takes himself in a hand, masturbating himself against his will; he's getting hard, _fuck_ , he's getting hard and he cannot do anything.  
  
“Good kid, keep going, keep sucking, come on,” Fontaine licks his lips wanting, getting off on the scene he has set up; he grabs Jack's head with both hands, pulling the dark hair, making him whine.  
  
He's nearly there, _he's gonna come_ , Jack thinks finding himself aroused by the slight idea even if he's not the one to blame.  
  
“Oh, fuck-” Fontaine moans shamelessly, coming into Jack's mouth and then spurting on his face; he tilts Jack's head back, eyes fixed on him, “swallow, would ya kindly?”  
  
_No._  
  
And Jack swallows it hating himself, coming in his hand and on the dirty floor, all of this under Fontaine's mischievous gaze.  
  
His mind blacks out as the orgasm hits him hard, collapsing on the ground as soon as Fontaine leaves his grip.  
  
Jack's shivering, muscles relaxing after all the effort; he tastes blood in his mouth as he has bitten his tongue, mixed with semen.  
  
It's horrible, it's nouseous.  
  
“You did good, kid,” Fontaine says as he drags up his pants and fasts his belt, “your mother would be proud,” he says before laughing evilly.  
  
Jack closes his eyes wishing he had the freedom to cry himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on tumblr! [ http://writing-in-rapture.tumblr.com/](http://writing-in-rapture.tumblr.com)


End file.
